“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s better to focus on specific parts of the body. Here, try this. You can start with your lower body.”
She had him remove his boots and stand on two separate plates of a resilient material. She thought at first that his feet would be too big, it was important that they not extend beyond the plates, but the plates were just big enough. While the plates molded themselves to his feet, she attached and adjusted a complex set of belts. The belts would force him to use his shoulders as he lifted his feet, thereby distributing the force of his efforts up and down his spine.
She touched keys on a pad and said, “Walk, Terry.”
He walked toward Tarn on the far side of the room as if the plates weren’t even there. She touched more keys, then again, but he just kept walking normally. He gave her a questioning look as he started back toward her. She touched the keys again, and this time a look of satisfaction crossed his face.
“Feels like I’m walking through sand with a backpack on,” he said. “Can you dial it up a little more?”
She dialed it up a lot more, and a smile came to his face. “Better. Do you have anything for my arms and hands?”
“You’re already at 1.3 g’s, Terry. That’s enough for the first time.”
“If you say so, but I don’t want this workout to take all day. Anything for my hands?”
“Later. You get ten minutes with this, that’s all.”
He frowned and continued tromping around the room. “Who are you Protecting?” she called to him.
“At the moment, Sir Mike. He doesn’t need any protection, he’s one of us, but the Queen insisted.”
“He’s one of you?”
“He went through the same training.” He stopped walking for a moment and stared at Krys. “I’d follow him anywhere under any circumstances.”
“I barely know him, but I know what you mean.” Krys put on plates of her own and joined him. “So you’re a Protector and a gunner?”
“I am. I’m rusty on the guns, but I’m getting a little practice each day on this trip.”
“Do you have a family on Earth?”
“I do. My wife, Tanya, and three children.”
Just then a middle-aged, spare man walked in the door dressed in the same baggy pants as Terry, though he wore a longer shirt that was tucked neatly into his workout pants.
“Hi, Terry,” he called, as he found a place near Tarn and settled into some stretches of his own.
“Hi, Tom. This is Krys. The guy beside you is Tarn Lukes.”
Tom nodded to both of them, then stood up and leaned over to touch his toes. He wasn’t anywhere near as limber as Terry, and he struggled to place his hands flat on the floor. Krys stared at him, knowing the exercise was not only crude but potentially damaging. She couldn’t help herself. She went over to him.
“Tom, is it?” she asked.
He pulled a translator pin from his pocket and placed it on his ear, and she repeated herself. “It’s Tom?”
He nodded. “I’m Tom O’Brien. Pleased to meet you, Krys.”
He started back down, and she went down into a crouch with him. “Is that the way you exercise on Earth?”
He turned his head sideways to look into her eyes as he held the stretch. “Actually, I’m a runner. I’m not much into heavy workouts, just stretches before I run. Haven’t found anywhere to run here. I’ve decided to try the corridors today.”
“Can I suggest some alternative stretches?” she asked, worry apparent on her face.
“Afraid the old guy’s going to hurt himself? I’ve been doing it this way for years.”
“Then you probably won’t hurt yourself, but there are better stretches.” She sat on the floor and demonstrated a series of stretches that included the whole body by the time she was done.
He frowned. “That looks complicated. If you have time, I wouldn’t mind starting at the beginning.”
He joined her on the deck, and she started over, slowly. “You’re from Earth, too?” she asked.
“I am.”
“What’s your purpose here?”
“I’m the pilot if we run into Chessori. Not much of a chance on this trip.”
“Have you seen any action?”
“No. Not yet.”
“You’re from an emerging world. It strikes me that we’re asking an awful lot from people who’ve never been in space before. Has the training been difficult?”
“No, but it’s been intense. Flying the ships is fun. Your AI’s are the key. They know the stuff that we don’t, and when we join with them in the net, we just have to think. The AI executes everything at our request, and it takes care of the ship’s systems while it’s doing it. We don’t have to worry about air quality or food or how the toilets flush. The AI takes care of those things, and what it doesn’t take care of, your Empire crewmen take care of. Us Terrans are only needed to fight the Chessori, so we don’t have to worry about anything but flying the ship and shooting the guns. As a squadron commander, I learned all that, then focused on managing the ships of the squadron and coordinating tactics with other squadrons. Tactics are different from what we had on Earth, and the battleground is a little bigger, but fighting is fighting and we’re doing okay with it.”
“Is this ship part of a squadron?”
He smiled. “No.”
“I don’t know what ship we’re on, but this isn’t a cruiser.”
“No. Sadly, it’s not. We’re on a trader.”
“We have squadrons of traders?”
“No, not that I know of. We’re on a quick trip to Earth to pick up Alexis and to drop you and your crew off. Admiral Trexler pulled me from my squadron for this mission. I’ll get another one someday.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s a disappointment.”
“It is,” he said, as he copied a leg stretch she was demonstrating. His leg trembled as he leaned across it with his hands wrapped around a foot. He turned his head to her. “I’ll do whatever it takes. We’re not just fighting for the Empire, we’re fighting to protect our home world, and the stakes are the very highest. I’m not after advancement as much as I’m after winning.”
She nodded her head grimly. “We all are. I just hope we’re in time.”
“I’m told our intelligence people believe we have a little time. We’re moving as fast as we possibly can.”
She looked to Tarn with a worried expression. “I hope you’re right, Tom. Intelligence gathering isn’t an exact science.”
“It never is. Don’t worry. A plan’s in place.”
“Are you up to fighting the Chessori?”
A fatherly look came into his eyes. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, young lady.”
“Have you left family behind?”
He looked away. “My wife died suddenly about a year ago. I have a son who’s out on his own now, starting his own family.” His expression brightened. “I’ll be a grandfather soon.”
She decided his left leg had had enough. She switched to the right leg and he followed. “I’m sorry about your wife.”
“Thank you. She’s in my thoughts constantly.” His gaze latched onto hers. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t affect my performance. I’m quite focused on beating these Chessori.”
Another man came into the room, and she shot a scathing look to Tarn. This was supposed to have been a private work-out. He shrugged as he continued with his stretches.
“Jacobs,” Terry Washburn called out. “You’ve decided to quit being lazy?”
“No, sir. I’ve been with the ship’s medic.”
“Are you ill?” Krys asked.
He shook his head and pulled a translator from his pocket. Krys repeated her question.
“No, Ma’am. Just getting better acquainted with the equipment. I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to get proficient with it.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“I’m a soldier, Ma’am. One of my specialties is medic. I have a ways to go with all this new stuff, but I’m working on it. I’m Sergeant Jacobs,” he said as he, too, started a round of stretches.
“I’m Krys.”
He nodded, and she studied his movements, finding no fault. Washburn was continuing to clomp about the room, and he looked bored. Krys got up and motioned him to return to the equipment rack.